Hold You Down

Chapter Twenty Nine | Grateful

Chapter Twenty Nine x Grateful

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There were a lot of tears I had to cry through

A lot of battles left me battered and bruised

Now I was shattered to have my heart ripped in two

I was broken, I was broken,

There were a lot of times I stumbled and crushed

When I was only years down to my last chance

So many times when I was so convinced that

I was over, I was over

But I had to fall yeah

To rise above it all

I'm grateful for the storm

Made me appreciate the sun

I'm grateful for the wrong ones

Made me appreciate the right ones

I'm grateful for the pain

For everything that made me break

I'm thankful for all my scars

'Cause they only made my heart

Grateful- Rita Ora

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1 Month Later

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Money

"Where the fuck my Money at Chris?" my voice roared throughout the basement of the Westside trap house. I didn't care how loud I was, this shit was sound proof anyway. Nobody could hear what was going on down here from the outside. This was the dungeon, where most niggas left in pieces. I don't take well to disloyalty and disrespect, which usually was the cause of niggas being brought down here in the first place.

I looked down at the nigga Chris with nothing but cold eyes. I'm sure my face was red as fuck and the vein in the side of my neck was bulging, I was beyond pissed off. I woke up out of my sleep this morning to some shit like this. I hate for my sleep to be interrupted, which is partially why I'm being so ruthless right now. I could honestly give no fucks about this nigga life, just like he doesn't. He a snake and I don't fuck with snakes. His minutes on this earth were numbered, and I was the one that controlled both the clock and the trigger.

"Ion' know man." he said as he looked up at me with pleading eyes. This nigga was scared shitless, he should be. He fucked with one of the  things that I don't play about. My family, my money, and myself. Right now he was fucking with #2 and for that he had to get put down. I had to off this nigga, I'd be dishonoring my pops if I didn't.

I walked up closer to him and smacked him dead in his jaw with the butt of my loaded gun. He groaned in pain after I heard the sound of his jaw bone crack. I looked at him in satisfaction as he held his head down in pain. He couldn't hold his face, because his hands were missing from his body. I'd be sure to send those to his moms along with a nice black dress and a couple stacks for his funeral. He wanted to have fucking sticky fingers and steal, so he didn't deserve to have hands.

"Try again nigga," I barked as I stood over him with a killer mug on my face. He was wasting my time and I didn't have that to waste. I just wanted the nigga to admit it, he was gone be put under dirt either way it went though. He could get on his knees and beg me, but his ass still wouldn't make it passed those doors and see the outside world again. This was it for him.